


Safe Haven

by Nikkalia



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Pirates, Swordfighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2019-06-14 16:25:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15392742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikkalia/pseuds/Nikkalia
Summary: A pirate finds respite in the kingdom of an old friend, but old flames come to claim treasure that isn't theirs.





	Safe Haven

In the days between the harvest and the solstice, King Edward and his court hosted a grand celebration. It was a time when nobles mingled amongst the common people, when all were equal, and when any man could present a grievance to the king for consideration. The festival boasted of the best foods, a tournament for anyone able to lift a blade, and entertainment to enchant even the coldest of hearts. Edward, in his continuing effort to bring a lasting peace to the land, allowed foreigners and outsiders entrance to the festival. Even pirates were permitted to attend under the agreement that they would leave their weapons at the gate and commit no crimes while in his country. An agreement sea-weary and gold-laden privateers were all too happy to accept.

The crew of the Tempest descended on the festival in rare fashion. They celebrated their return from the unexplored north of the New World, eager to share the tales of the natives that lived there and share what spoils they’d returned with. Talyn, captain of the Tempest, was glad to be in a familiar port, as well, anxious to see the king she’d once been able to call friend. While everyone was familiar with her Russian heritage, few knew she had been a member of the aristocracy, or that she and Edward had once danced together in their youth. 

As the king and queen walked the streets of the fair, Talyn approached with her crew. Edward knew her immediately and smiled at the sight of her. “My dear Talyn,” he exclaimed as she bowed, “I had heard the rumors of your safe return and am glad to see you unharmed. The savages of the New World treated you well.”

“Your Majesties,” she nodded to the Queen, who nodded in return, “I would not say the New World left me unharmed. There have been new scars added to my personal collection. I can tell you, though, that the natives were no more savage than you or I.” Edward raised an eyebrow at her, knowing she still held disdain for the trappings of court. “They saved the lives of myself and my party more than once. Those people have a great connection to this earth and shared with me knowledge that could be of significant use to us all. And, in addition to the wisdom I gained,” she grinned, “I bring gifts.” 

Talyn pulled a small animal skin from a pouch on her belt, presenting it to the Queen. “For Your Grace and her daughters, a collection of native gems: rubies, sapphires, garnets, and amethysts.” Edward smiled as Talyn did, watching the Queen unfold the skin to reveal the rainbow of stones. “I’m sure the royal jewelers can transform these stones into breathtaking pieces.” 

“Thank you, my dear. They truly are beautiful,” the Queen spoke softly, examining a sapphire in the sunlight.

“Aboard my ship for your Majesty, furs of the black bear and enough tobacco to keep the entire court in smoke for a month. Finally, there is this.” She produced a small tomahawk with a blade of flint secured in a leather thong. Edward’s eyebrow raised, curious as to how she’d managed to sneak it in. “I know of your fondness for unique weapons. This piece was crafted by the chief of the tribe as a gift to the chief of my tribe.”

Edward smiled openly, closely examining the weapon, testing its weight and balance. His gaze fell back to Talyn and her customary half smirk. “You have, of course, distributed the appropriate shares amongst the crew of the Tempest?” 

“Of course,” she answered with a smile.

“Then, my friend, I accept the gifts of the natives. Well done.” He handed the weapon to his guard, wrapping kind arms around the woman in front of him. “And welcome home.” Talyn returned the embrace as he whispered, “You have been missed.” She smiled. “Come!” Edward exclaimed, “You and your crew shall join us, dine at my table and share your stories of these brave people who have delivered you safely back to your family!” 

Food and wine flowed around Talyn’s stories of their journey. She held the court spellbound as she spoke of the ways of the northern natives, of their songs and dances, and of hunting deer and bears with only bow and arrow, taking the still-beating heart from a beast and sharing it with the natives in their tradition. Hoarse from speaking so long, she begged the king’s indulgence for a break. He obliged her, ordering the entertainment to begin. 

The next day saw another tournament, knights fighting and jousting one another, some requesting the favor of a lady in the court while others battled simply for honor and position. Talyn soon found herself bored with the day, itching to walk the festival and take in the sights outside the ring. As she stood to make her excuses to the king, two men of equal stature entered the field, purposefully striding towards the dais. She knew them both on sight.

“My lord,” the man on the left, dressed in the old, rusted armor of a knight, spoke first, “I have come to petition for recompense. A crime has been committed.” Gasps quietly shook the crowd as Edward stood.

“I, too, come seeking restitution,” spoke the man on the right, Scottish by accent and dress.

“This is a celebration, not a time to seek justice.” Edward boomed, moving to return to his throne. “Come to me tomorrow and all debts shall be settled in accordance with the law.”

“All due respect, your Majesty, but the thief will be gone by then.” The Knight looked dead at Talyn, anger in his eyes. Edward tried his best not to notice.

“Thief? You’re telling me someone robbed you during this festival?”

“No, my king. Not during this festival. But the thief is here now. I’ve been hunting her for weeks.”

“Her?” Edward’s voice was cautious. “A woman stole from you?” The Knight nodded. “And what of you? Do you make a similar claim?” 

“No, my lord.” the Scotsman answered. “I fear I am the one who has committed the crime against her.”

“You come to confess a crime?” The Scotsman only looked at Talyn. “Are you both are here because of the same woman?” Both men nodded. Judging by the ragged breathing of his friend, Edward knew the answer to his question before he even asked it. “Who is it, then, that you call out?”

“Talyn Dmitrieva.” 

All eyes fell on the woman whose hand was instinctively reaching for the blade that wasn’t there. The crew of the Tempest was on its feet, assuming protective positions around her. Edward turned to her, not entirely surprised to see anger in her eyes. The last time he’d seen such fury building was at the announcement of her betrothal to a grotesque Russian duke. A duke who, Edward recalled with a slight smile as he stood, was later found floating down the Neva River, slashed through the heart. 

“These are grievous accusations you make, gentlemen. This woman is a friend of the court and our honored guest. What proof do you have of her crime?” Scotsman and Knight turned to glare at each other, and the tension between them was not lost on the King. He knew there was more to the story than was being told and folded his arms. “Well?”

The Knight stood strong. “I have none, my lord. What she has possession of cannot be seen, only felt. But I can assure you it was taken from me, and this man,” he growled, gesturing to the Scotsman, “has no claim to it. Or to her.”

Edward’s eyes widened in shock. He turned to his friend. “Is this true? Does this man have rights to you?” Talyn pushed through her crew to his side, sheer fury radiating from her. “Do either of them?”

“When have you ever known any man to hold dominion over me,” she quietly spat. 

“Never, for any length of time,” he sighed. “Gentlemen, unless you can provide proof of your claims...”

“My lord,” the Scotsman interrupted, “I beg your forgiveness. I know of this man’s desire to claim her hand, to fight for it if he must. I am here to fight in her name, in the hopes of restoring myself to her good graces.”

“Your Majesty, this man is the reason that Talyn abandoned me. I only wish to...”

“Abandoned you?” Talyn barked, startling the man beside her. “Abandoned you?!?!” She jumped from the dais, landing in the field and drawing a sword from a guard near the wall. Others in the royal guard went for their weapons, and Edward raised his arms, silently ordering them all to stand down. He knew that if either of the men before him wanted a fight, they’d have it without any need for his guard. 

Talyn’s voice grew in volume and depth as she approached the Knight, the point of the blade squared on his heart. “You? You, who chose drink and games over me at every turn. You who would gladly go months without so much as a word in my direction, and spend what little time we ever had together engaging everyone but me! In what world did I abandon you?” 

“You gave me your word,” the Knight boomed for all to hear. Edward closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. “You promised your hand to me.”

“As did you,” she said, pushing the sword to his chest, “but you decided better of it when your honor was at stake because of my... profession.” The last was loud enough to be heard across the field. “Your Majesty,” she continued over her shoulder, “this man relinquished any claim he may have ever had on me long ago. He has no business here.” She stepped back and the Knight grabbed her arm. The Scotsman lunged for the Knight, sword drawn. Talyn blocked the Scotsman’s swing, breaking free from the Knight and pushing the Scotsman to the dirt in the process. The Knight drew his sword and made for the man on the ground. Talyn stepped into his path, her sword coming down toward his shoulder. The Knight deflected her stroke and parried with his own. Their blades rang out each time they met, drawing gasps from the crowd with every blow. She feigned a charge and the Knight backed away. 

“You pompous, overbearing ublyudok,” she screamed at the Knight. “How dare you! Coming here to claim me like a piece of property? Go back to your army, your drink, and your whores! Make a trophy of some poor wench who doesn’t know any better!” She raised her sword. “Or do you truly want to try and take what isn’t yours?”

The Knight stood in stunned silence. He studied Talyn for a moment, then, sheathed his sword. “I will not fight you.” He turned to the dias and bowed. “With your permission, Your Majesty, I withdraw.” Edward nodded, and, with tears betraying his slow determination, the Knight left the field.

“And you,” she scowled, watching the Scotsman fetch his own blade after the Knight’s departure. “Coming to fight in my name? Ridiculous! You who would woo every maid in this realm rather than soil your hands in battle! Did you even have the decency to wait for my ship to leave port, or did you have another waiting in the alley to warm your bed while I was gone?” 

The Scotsman bowed his head, the tip of his sword falling to the ground. “I cannot deny my faults. Nor can I make a claim for you. I never could,” he finally whispered. Talyn resisted the urge to attack and lowered her blade, slowly backing away. “No man can be your master,” he sighed, “only the sea.”

“Then why are you here?” Edward called out. While he was rather enjoying the show, he knew Talyn wasn’t. The public airing of her private life was one of the reasons she escaped the court of the Empress Elizabeth. 

“My lord, I thought she would need a champion. I hoped it would be me.” The Scotsman smiled, shaking his head. “It’s obvious I was mistaken. I beg your forgiveness.” His voice lowered, his sea-green eyes searching the blue in Talyn’s. “And yours.” He sheathed his sword, removed the belt that held it and fell to one knee. “I will follow you to the end of the earth and through Perdition’s flames if I have to,” he said, placing the blade on the ground at her feet. “I pledge my life and my sword to you, moya lyubov’. I have no claim to you, but freely give you all rights to me.”

She picked up the sword, examining the scrolled hilt closely. “Your accent needs work.” The crowd held its breath along with Edward as the Scotsman stood, wary of what would happen next. A moment passed, ending with Talyn placing the sword back in the Scotsman’s hands. “I know what this means in your land. I do not marry again.” She tried to ignore the groan that came from the dais. “Pledge your sword to the Tempest, to her crew, but not to me.” She returned the blade she’d taken from the soldier to him and addressed the dais. “Your Majesties, my apologies for the interruption.”

“I trust, Captain, that we shall hear no more accusations against you?” Edward glared down at her, arms folded. 

Talyn flashed the trademark smile. “Of course, Your Highness. I would not dream of breaking the trust of your most gracious crown.” An amused look crossed Edward’s face, despite his best effort to conceal it. Talyn bowed deeply and turned to climb the dais steps again, locking eyes with the Scotsman. “Your life is your own,” she whispered. “It is your choice to follow me. I will not demand it.” The Scotsman watched her ascend the stairs, then himself disappeared into the crowd.

A fortnight following the scene at the festival, Edward and his queen observed from the castle walls as the crew of Tempest prepare to set sail. With the last longboat loaded, Talyn turned and waved, smiling as her friend lifted his hand in farewell. She, along with two others of her crew, pushed the vessel into the water and jumped in. Edward watched until he could see the Tempest’s colors fluttering in the breeze. He then retired for the evening, knowing his friend was safe aboard her ship.

Talyn sat on the sill of the window, basking in the glow of the moonlight and the comforting rock of the sea. Edward’s kingdom was no more than a golden speck on the horizon and she found herself missing the land. She was glad to still have the favor of this king and the knowledge that his port would always be a safe haven for her crew. A crew which was making merry outside her cabin, ready for the next adventure to find them. Soft rapping upon her door brought her focus back to reality.

“Come.”

“Cap’n,” her cook and surgeon boomed as he entered, “one of the new mates wishes a word with ye.”

She stood. “Show him in.” The Scotsman entered, dressed simply in a shirt and breeches. Talyn was more surprised to see him in something other than a kilt than she was to see him at all. “So, you’ve joined my crew then? They’ve accepted you?”

“Aye,” he answered, holding up a full bottle. “Though they question my sea legs. This rum is...”

“An acquired taste,” she finished, taking the bottle from his hand. He watched her take a long draught from the bottle, then recork it, his eyes following her hand as it brushed a stray drop from her lips. “You’re sure this is what you want? Weeks without land, or meat, fierce battles, the stench of the sea?”

“If it means I am able to be at your side,” he nodded, “yes.”

“Then you’re a fool!” The bottle slammed down on her desk. “You won’t be able to hide behind my skirts at the first sign of trouble. Your treatment will be no different than that of any other man on this ship. If you had any ideas otherwise, you’d better take a raft and go back to the shore now.” She glared over her shoulder at him. “While you can still get back.”

“Talyn, please. I have said it before, and I will say it again. Everything I have, everything I am, is yours.”

“And I told you not to pledge yourself to me, but to this ship.” She returned to her seat at the window, propping one foot up on the sill and again drinking from the bottle.

He marveled at the sight of her leg shadowed by the moonlight pouring through her skirt. At last, he sat on the sill across from her. “To me, it’s the same thing. You are this ship. And I would die to defend both of you.” She held the bottle out to him. He declined.

“A Scotsman that doesn’t drink. I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“A Russian drinking rum is just as unlikely.”

She smiled. “You are determined to steal my heart again, aren’t you?”

“Isn’t that what pirates do?” he laughed.

The smile vanished. She leaned forward, the blade of the knife he’d given her long ago flashing in the moon’s silver rays as the point dug into the tender skin beneath his chin. “Take care what you intend to steal. For if you break it again, I will kill you.”

“Aye,” he paused, his eyes boring into hers, “Captain.”


End file.
